Archived Events and Documents

Bishop Edward Daly 1933 - 2016

Bishop Daly served as Bishop of Derry from 1974 – 1993

and in the following years was the dedicated chaplain at Foyle
Hospice, Derry; a position which he only retired from a few months
ago.We here in Lavey
will remember him for his many visits here for confirmation and
parish pastoral visitations.

We thank God for his faithful priestly ministry of over
59 years and pray he will now find eternal rest and peace with
Jesus, the Good Shepherd from whom he took the words of his
episcopal motto

pasce oves meas
(feed my sheep).

Requiescat in pace.

Most Rev Dr Edward Daly RIP

Below are the speaking notes of
Bishop Donal McKeown at the Funeral Mass for Bishop Edward Daly:

This is a day that all of us –
and none more so than Bishop Edward Daly – knew would eventually
come. Having retired on the grounds of ill health almost 23
years ago, he had faced recurrent illness and the frailties
which come with increasing age. But he always seemed to bounce
back with his usual poise. However, over the last couple of
weeks, he had to face his final great challenge and he did so
with his customary equanimity, prayerfulness and dignity.

So, today, we come to hand back
to God one who was grateful for how he had been blessed in life
– and one whose ministry has been an instrument of God’s peace
for so many people. It was a privilege to stand at the door of
the Cathedral over the last three days and hear stories of
invaluable acts of kindness, both great and small. The people of
the diocese – and beyond – held Bishop Edward Daly in the
highest regard for his loving faithfulness to them over a period
of 59 years as priest and bishop in this diocese. He could say,
as Jesus did, ‘I know mine and mine know me.’

His ministry was marked by
total dedication to the people he served, wherever he was called
to minister. That dedication was visible in outstanding courage.
He showed physical courage on Bloody Sunday. And his moral
courage was evident in his passionate struggle against violence
and injustice from all quarters. It takes enormous courage to be
a peacemaker. And he was an apostle of mercy, whether as a
curate, as a bishop or as chaplain in the Foyle Hospice. For
that courageous service of God and of his people, we give thanks
today. We have all been blessed by it.

We come to prayerfully hand
back this man to the strong hands of the Lord who – as the
psalmist says – knit us together in our mothers’ wombs. We stand
below the Cross where the carpenter of Nazareth stretched out
his arms to bear the world’s sin and to reveal the face of the
Father’s mercy. And we commend him to the free abundant gift of
grace.

So what do we thank and praise
God for today? There is the paradoxical truth that, because
mercy is free, it comes at a hefty price. For Edward Daly his
call to be a disciple of Christ was nourished in the heart of
his family, where he was the eldest of five children. When he
sensed a call to be used by Christ as one of his ordained
ministers, he accepted that invitation with a full heart, being
open to the Gospel truth that discipleship always demands a
dying to self. The call to follow Christ is an invitation to be
a worker who prepares the way for the coming of God’s kingdom,
built with the little bricks of kindness, generosity and
compassion with Jesus Christ as the cornerstone on whom the
whole building is aligned. In a fragmented and often
self-centred world, there is still a huge need for that sort of
dedicated and selfless service. The crowds who have come here
over the last few days show that they value loving, courageous,
generous spiritual leadership. Bishop Daly would not seek praise
for himself. He would ask that more young people dedicate their
lives to his sort of service to God and his people.

The motto that he chose for his
episcopal ministry some 42 years ago revealed something of how
he saw his calling. It is a quotation from today’s Gospel, where
Jesus tells Peter to ‘feed my sheep’. As Jesus says to Peter,
this is a call, not to glory but to humble service. Ministry in
the model of Jesus is not fitting people around my plans, but
expending my energies and sacrificing my desires, to prioritise
the healing of others. Like Peter, he would often find himself
in situations and places where he would rather not have gone -
places of pain, loss, injustice, confrontation and
incarceration. In those places, blessed are the merciful. Like
Veronica and Simon of Cyrene, thrust into the limelight on the
way to Calvary, he knew that carrying an unjust cross with
others was painful. But he continued to give of his all that the
sheep might be fed and built up.

In those hurting places, he
also remembered Jesus’ words, blessed are the peacemakers, for
they shall be called children of God. It took enormous courage
to build healing on the burning sands of war. We are all blessed
because we have seen how love can transform a blood-stained
piece of cloth into an unforgettable symbol of divine
compassion. Today we are grateful for Edward Daly and thousands
of others across our community and churches who took risks and
paid the price that peace might take roots in our hearts and
communities. Those who feed others with the hope of peace are a
blessing on us.

A key element of his
peacebuilding was his growing friendship with other church
leaders. In his early years as Bishop, he accepted the
groundbreaking invitation to attend the consecration of the
young Bishop Robin Eames. He then had a long friendship with
Bishop James Mehaffey, who became bishop here in 1980. Their
courageous work and real friendship were key factors in building
up relationships across the diocese. They attended as many
events and occasions as possible together, as a mark of unity
and a sign of hope. Today, we are immensely grateful for that
legacy.

My first encounter with Bishop
Edward Daly was when he visited the Irish College in Rome in
1974. He was a young bishop and we were studying theology. He
asked us to do one thing – he said ‘please pray for me’. This
was not merely a pious expression. Rather they seemed to come
from a heart which knew the maelstrom that was NI in those awful
years. He knew about murder and loss. He knew that the years of
conflict followed upon decades of terrible poverty and
discrimination – as well as heroic generosity. He knew the
enormous resilience of people who could face almost anything
together. The famous song of Phil Coulter caught that resilience
so well.

Now the music's gone but they
carry on
For their spirit's been bruised, never broken
They will not forget but their hearts are set
on tomorrow and peace once again.

He also knew so many people, steeped in the language of faith
and of the Cross, who would not let themselves be crushed by the
terrible burdens that many of them had to bear. And we still see
the legacy of that resilient faith today in a strong sense of
community and an ability to face tragedies together.

The young bishop asked us for
prayers because he knew from the Gospels that it takes a humble
person rather than a haughty one to step out of the boat and
face the choppy waters. It takes a prayerful heart to be
convinced that nothing can separate us from the love of God made
visible in Christ Jesus our Lord. It takes a trusting and
generous heart to act in good faith and to believe that God can
bring good results from our less than perfect decisions. Prayer
allowed the Lord to mould his heart.

Because of that prayer-filled
heart, thousands were blessed by his service in Jesus’ name.
That is why there was a never-ending stream of God’s people,
streaming through the Cathedral doors since his remains arrived
here on Monday evening – perhaps 25,000 over the last three
days. That was their response to a man who loved them and whom
they loved.

On the altar today for the
Liturgy of the Eucharist we will use the chalice that was
presented to the newly ordained Fr Edward Daly by the people of
his native Belleek in March 1957 to mark his ordination as a
priest. That chalice is a sign of his own 59 years of dedication
to the regular celebration of the Eucharist. The sacramental
presence of Christ was central to his life and he knew how the
sacrament of the suffering Christ was such a consolation to the
sick. With it he celebrated Christ’s victory over sin and death
– for therein lies the mystery of our salvation and our hope.

In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus
appoints disciples ‘to be with him and to go out’ (Mk 3:14). For
Bishop Daly and for all, of us who believe in Jesus Christ,
faith is not a placebo for the weak but something that gives
strength to face the challenges of life, of illness and dying,
to go out, as Pope Francis says, to the peripheries. A person
who has made room for the Transcendent in their life can
courageously face the mystery of living and dying. Those who
walk with God in the 21st century do not seek to escape from
life. They have the strength to travel into the heart of life in
all its diversity and complexity, believing that they will find
a spring to satisfy their thirsting heart. The journey into the
mystery of God is not a childish distraction but a maturing
journey into the mystery of living and loving, of pain and
forgiveness, of hoping and trusting.

One of Bishop Daly’s favourite
prayers, that he would recite in the hospice for those who were
dying and which was read with him in his last days, was John
Henry Newman’s Lead Kindly Light. The person of faith need not
fear the future nor have to see it, for they know the One who is
Lord of the past and the future. I prayed it with him on the
evening before his death, when we said with trust:

So long thy pow'r hath blest me, sure it still/ Will lead me on
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till The night is
gone.
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

He could also apply to himself
other words from Cardinal Newman.
He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do
His work.

I shall be an angel of peace, a
preacher of truth in my own place,
while not intending it if I do but keep His commandments.”

Edward Kevin Daly, your time of
faithful service is over. You have fought the good fight, you
have run the race, you have kept the faith (Cf. 2 Tim 4:7). As
you breathed your last and commended your spirit into God’s
hands, you could pray the words of Simeon in the Gospel ‘Now let
your servant go in peace according to your promise’.

With gratitude, we hand you
back to the fine strong hands of the Lord who created you in
love and give thanks for all the things that have been worked
through – in the words of Zechariah - ‘the tender mercy of our
God, who visits us like the dawn from on high, to give light to
those in darkness and in the shadow of death and to guide our
feet into the way of peace.’